


Hard Rain

by mylittleredgirl



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleredgirl/pseuds/mylittleredgirl
Summary: These storms bring out the worst in them.





	Hard Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/gifts).

It’s the fifth or sixth hurricane they’ve had in Atlantis, and they haven’t lost anyone since the first one (and the Genii were to blame for those deaths, not the weather), but as long as lightning and hail and high winds whip at the city shield, almost everyone’s on edge. There isn’t anything they can do (even the Ancients, it seems, lacked the power to control the weather), and off-world travel is suspended, so John is caught between bored and really, really stressed out.  
  
So he hovers. He bothers Rodney so often about how long the shield will hold out that Rodney writes _5-6 DAYS, STORM OVER SOON, STOP ASKING_ on a white-board, posts it in the hall, and locks the ZPM room from the inside. He checks on Teyla (who’s not interested in having a _third_ run down the pier), Ronon (who’s sleeping), and Carson (who threatened him with a physical just to get him out of the infirmary). He spends an hour watching Chuck push buttons until he can’t stand it anymore, then goes for a third run by himself.  
  
He’s avoiding Elizabeth. She’s the only person who gets _more_ worked up than him at the sound of thunder and the sickly vibrations of lightning going to ground (that Rodney and Radek’s seismic sensors insist they’re just imagining). He and Elizabeth are mature, reasonable people who usually manage to deal with professional and personal conflicts with a minimum of name-calling, but these storms bring out the worst in them. By hour 12 of the last one, she was in his quarters _screaming_ at him, and he completely deserved it for the stupid things he said, and all he could see when he closed his eyes was the 56 Genii casualties that didn’t even begin to make a dent in how he felt when, for all he knew, she was _dead_.  
  
He runs along the piers, back and forth, even out to the (now repaired, of course, after two and a half years) grounding stations, chased by the memory of Kolya on the radio.  
  
He’s gone from winded to runner’s high to sweaty mess by the time a real voice on the radio interrupts him. _“John, come out to the dock.”_  
  
She doesn’t sound mad. He hesitates, checking himself, but he’s too tired to start any serious fight, and if he’s honest, all he wants besides the sun to come out is Elizabeth, and the kind of no-doubts-allowed hug that only she can give, and maybe a massage.  
  
To up his chances for the last two, he showers. Then he pretty much limps to Elizabeth’s favorite spot near the Ancient boat locks, since really, he’s an idiot to run three-quarters of a Pegasus marathon just because a few years ago he had the worst day of his life and he thinks about it every time it _rains_.

“You look nice,” he says when he finds her. Elizabeth’s dressed in uniform, like she almost always is these days, but her hair is pulled up, and it’s always good to start with a compliment when he’s been avoiding her like the plague for a day and a half.  
  
“Thanks. You look... terrible, actually.”  
  
He pretends to glare at her, then nudges her to scoot over on the bench. He collapses on it with less grace than he might have hoped. “Thanks.”  
  
Her hand grips his, and she looks up. He copies her. “Looks like the worst is over,” she says, and sighs out a long breath. “Thank God.”  
  
Even if it makes them both cranky, it’s nice that someone else _gets it._  
  
Their radios both click on at once. Rodney. _”Storm’s over, and I want to go to bed. Are we good to shut down the shield?”_  
  
John frowns. “It’s still raining.” Out here, almost level with the water, the shield is high above them, but he can still see it’s soaked in water.  
  
_“So what? The threat of a storm is from surge and lightning and high winds. It’s going to rain for hours, but we’re out of danger.”_  
  
Elizabeth says, “We can’t afford to waste that much energy. Notify city-wide, then shut it down.”  
  
“Are we going to go in?” He’s not sure how he’ll feel if he sees her uniform and hair soaked flat to her skin, even without fear in her eyes or a gun to her head.  
  
She looks at him like she can read his mind, and squeezes his hand, hard. “It’s just rain. We should probably face it sometime.”  
  
He looks down, and she grabs his chin, making him look at her until the sky opens.  
  
He kisses her, holding on to her with every sense he has. Her breath and smell and the heat of her mouth mix with the rain, and she doesn’t wash away.  
  
When he pulls back, she’s soaking wet, but smiling. He can live with that.  
  
“We’re okay,” he says.  
  
She shrugs her shoulders up to her ears. “It’s a little cold, though. Hot bath? You look like you could use one.”  
  
He grins. He may have spent the day running around stupid, in more ways than one, but if she’s going to join him in one of those Atlantis soaking tubs… well, he’s never too tired for _that_. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sparktober 2013: "Kissing in the rain."


End file.
